As he went on relating these things, in the same old natural voice that he had poured into the same ears from their infancy, until nearly ten years had passed, a long-closed vein of memory seemed gradually to open in the prisoner’s brain; he covered his face with his hands, and for a few moments seemed lost in connecting the various threads of the past, until gradually it all came plainly and clearly back to him.  His memory had again by these hints become completely restored, he was himself again!

“Leonard, Leonard, I see all, remember all,” he said, while a tear, a man’s tear, wet for a single moment his bronzed cheek.

“I am rejoiced, sir, to hear it, I am sure,” said the other.

“But, Leonard, where is my brother, and why is it necessary to remove these badges of shame by stealth?  Tell me, where is Robert?”

“Alas, sir, you must remember that he never held a brother’s regard for you; it was that very thing which drove you from us when you were a wee bit of a boy.”

“True, true; but he must see the hand of Providence in all this, and I know he will give me his hand, and we will forgive each other and forget the past.”

“Alas! sir, I always befriended you at home, when master Robert had set both the old folk against you, and I would do so now; but as to him, sir, I am sorry to say it, but he’s a bad man, and he makes all those who are with him bad men, and I have many a sad thing at heart that I have been guilty of by following his orders, sir.  No, no, master Charles, take my advice, don’t trust Robert,—­make your escape, or you will be hanged at the yard-arm of this very ship ere another twenty-four hours have passed!”

“Is he capable of this?” asked the younger brother, in tones of amazement

“Nobody should know better than I, sir, and I tell you yes.”

“My blood, then, shall not be upon his hands,” said Charles, musing, “I will escape.  Come, good Leonard, relieve me of these shackles, and quickly.”

“Slowly, slowly, master Charles, we must be cautious, there are watchful eyes on board the ship, and sentries who know their duty, so be wary.”

The young commander seemed now to stand more erect, there was a freer glance to his eye, his lips were more compressed and firm, he felt that what had been to him heretofore an indelible stain, a stigma upon his character, was now effaced; he was not only respectably born, but even gently and highly so.  His father was knighted by his king, his blood was as pure and ancient as any in England.  He could now take Helen Huntington to his heart without shame; he could boldly plead a cause that he had not before dared to utter; he could refer her to the dear hours of their childhood, to the tender kiss she gave him when he left that distant home to become a wanderer over half the globe!